


you're lying to yourself

by Cookiemonster2000



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Bad Decisions, Bad People, Character Study, Cheating, Drunkenness, F/M, Hook-Up, Implied Sexual Content, Nothing explicit, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Ted you dumb fuck, anyway everything hurts, maybe one day - Freeform, no happy endings here, ted loves charlotte!! everyone be quiet!!! he loves her!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23273902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookiemonster2000/pseuds/Cookiemonster2000
Summary: From the first time to the last, Ted thinks maybe this time will be enough to change her mind.
Relationships: Charlotte/Sam (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 29





	you're lying to yourself

**Author's Note:**

> hahaha i really hated both ted and charlotte upon my first TGWDLM viewing. they're selfish and kind of awful. unfortunately, some feelings have snuck in, and now i have to deal with wanting to write angst with them. hope you enjoy.

“Oh,  _ shit _ .”

It could have easily been a dream, a really fucked up dream his subconscious whipped up just to torture him. But the fact that he was awake now and Charlotte was slumbering next to him kind of disproved that possibility.

Ted leaned slightly over, looking her up and down. She was curled up, facing away from him, a tiny frown on her lips. He flushed, recalling the events of the night before. He had given those lips more attention than he’d ever imagined he’d be allowed to. Her hair was tangled and messy, really awful-looking, if he was being honest.

But she was curled up under his covers and some part of him, some small part, couldn’t deny the feeling of affection that bubbled up in his chest like lava. But more dangerous. Annoyance, he knew how to deal with. Lust was easy too. But what the hell was he supposed to do with _ that _ .

“Oh, shit,” he said again, running a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

  
  


She’d been crying at the office and Paul had tried to talk to her a bit but she wasn’t opening up--she was embarrassed. The man had shot her a pitying look before heading out, reminding her that she needed to leave soon. Social interaction wasn’t exactly Paul’s strong suit, but the soft smile Charlotte shot him as he left was reassurance that she appreciated his efforts. Bill didn’t try to talk to her, just patted her on the back as he passed. Ted watched as she had to take a moment to reorient herself after that, closing her eyes. He could see her mouth moving as she silently counted to ten. All of it was _ annoying _ . Woman couldn’t keep her emotions under control in the office, anyone would be tired of seeing her blue eyes fill up with tears for the seventh time that day when she checked the time.

Ted wasn’t sure why he’d picked that day to finish the reports that took the absolute longest, but before he knew it, they were the only two left working overtime. Well, “working” was a strong word to describe what Charlotte was doing.

After the third time she’d taken a swig of her little flask, Ted had had enough. He had gone up to her and asked her what she was drinking, since she seemed to like it so much. She’d been even more embarrassed to admit she had alcohol, but it wasn’t like it was a secret. 

Ted snatched it from her hands. She didn’t even protest as he popped the lid open and took a swig himself. Charlotte’s eyes didn’t leave his face as he swallowed, lifted the flask up to his eyes for a minute, and, after a moment, helped himself to another gulp.

“You. . . you aren’t going to ask me what’s wrong?” she had asked tentatively.

“You didn’t tell anybody else, why would you tell me?”

Charlotte had nodded shakily and fiddled with the hem of her sweater. Ted had been so tired he wasn’t thinking straight. He took another drink of her alcohol.

“Besides, everyone already knows.”

Her eyes had snapped to his, so very wide and doe-like and stupidly innocent and naive.

“What? You think we don’t notice what a scumbag your so-called husband is? I‘ve only seen the guy because we live in fuckin’ Hatchetfield, population  _ seventy-something _ . In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s never even come to pick you up, I mean, Bill’s ex- _ wife _ , remember that time she came to pick up Alice when Bill dragged her over? We’ve seen Bill’s  _ ex  _ more than Sam, Char.”

“He’s just. . . busy.”

“You,” Ted took another swig of her drink, “are _ lying  _ to yourself and you  _ know  _ it.”

“B-but he is!”

“Oh, really? What’s he busy with?”

She averted her eyes. “Police work. Ted, it’s none of your business--”

“It’s my business when you’re sitting here crying your eyes out because of  _ him _ .” He wasn’t backing down.

Charlotte glared. “Why would that make it your business?”

“Because-- you’re-- look at you!” Ted gestured wildly at all of her. She glanced down at herself, affronted. “You’re having a meltdown at work!”

“Well, I’ll just take my meltdown  _ elsewhere _ , shouldn’t I!” She stood up abruptly. “You’re the most selfish, insensitive man I’ve ever had the misfortune to cross paths with!”

“The most selfish, insensitive man you’ve ever crossed paths with is that douchebag you’re married to, Charlotte!” he shot back, slamming his hands down on the desk. “I may be in the top five, but he’s definitely up higher on that list than me!”

“I  _ love  _ Sam!”

At that point, they were facing each other directly, at eye level--Ted was still leaning downwards. Charlotte jutted her chin out threateningly.

He paused.

“Come on. Get your coat on.”

“Wh--huh??” Her tone switched to bafflement.

“You need something stronger than that whiskey. It’s shit, Char.” Ted pulled his own jacket on, grabbing his keys from his pocket. “We’re going to the bar.”

“But-- I still have to--”

“Listen.” He had placed a hand on her shoulder. She snapped her mouth shut, looking at him with that wide-eyed expression again. He  _ hated  _ that face. Made him feel weak. 

“You’ve got nothing done all day and if you think you're gettin' anything else done, you're wrong. Now _I’m_ heading out. You coming or not?”

He had smirked as she hastily tidied up her workspace and pulled her coat on.

  
  


That was the first mistake. 

  
  


Ted ran it over and over in his brain as he got dressed as quietly as possible. She was sleeping it off, the drink. Charlotte held her drink better than he did--she was still on her feet, laughing at him, when he teetered on the barstool. She was so  _ cute _ when she laughed, who could really blame him for grabbing her shoulder to hold himself up? And when she pressed her lips together tightly, as if to berate him, but the sparkle in her eyes was still there and directed at him who would rightly expect him to not lean towards her? She had met him halfway, Ted consoled himself with that thought. She had brought her free hand--the one not gripping her glass--up to his neck and pulled him down further and kissed him more firmly than he ever expected.

But the bar was full of witnesses and Ted wasn’t interested in being the topic of every gossip’s afternoon chat for the next week, so he had leaned down to her ear and whispered that she could come to his place and she had downed the rest of her drink and grabbed her jacket and followed him and wouldn’t look at him in the car and he was worried she was rethinking it but she had grabbed at his collar while he was driving and he had pulled over for them to kiss some more, and by some miracle he’d gotten them to his place, and she had already gotten her sweater off by the time he unlocked the door.

Charlotte had grabbed him by his collar again and pulled him down and shoved him against the wall and he had drunk in her every move greedily, because this was it, she was finally coming around.

  
  


Except, no, she wasn't.

Ted stared at Charlotte as her eyelids fluttered and she gasped softly.

“Oh, God-- no--”

“Morning, Char.”

She dragged the covers up over herself. He was impressed by how lucid she was so quickly.

“Listen--Ted, yesterday, I’m so sorry for dragging you into my mess--”

“No worries, Charlotte. I was happy to oblige.” He gave her a wink.

She shuddered and pulled the covers up further. “No, this-- this can’t be a. . . a regular occurrence. This, this was a one-time thing, Ted, do you understand? Sam can never-- I don’t want him to think-- I would never cheat on Sam.”

Ted, who had turned to finish buttoning up his shirt, barked out a laugh to cover up the sinking in his gut. “Of  _ course  _ not.”

“No--really!” Charlotte reached for her bra, which was strewn onto a nearby chair. “Ted, can you, um--”

“No problem.” He left the room without another word.

  
  
  
  


She had eaten some of his cereal before heading home quickly. He offered to buy her some coffee so she could at least somewhat curb the unpleasant aftereffects of their excessive drinking, but she turned him down in favor of heading straight home. Her responses to his questions and little attempts to start conversation were short and distracted as she continuously checked her phone and fretted with her hair and clothes. She had rushed out the door, not bothering to give him a proper goodbye, her mind clearly focused on what the hell she was going to tell her husband when she got back.

Maybe it was mean that Ted hoped Sam wasn’t even home. But he never claimed to be nice.

  
  
  


After the first time, it was all downhill. They developed a routine. Charlotte would be having a terrible day. Ted would flirt with her--cautiously at first, then if she didn’t shut him down, he went further, initiating touch by tapping her shoulder casually and brushing elbows when he passed her desk. By a certain point, she’d confront him in the back and it would escalate from there. Some days he could convince her to skip out on work early. Some days he had to wait until she was done crying in the bathroom because Sam was busy again, always busy.

_Ted_ wasn’t too busy. Ted was _never_ busy on the days Charlotte flirted with him, shot him a smirk when nobody else was paying attention. No, Ted was _always_ down to spend time with her. 

Maybe one day she’d even take up his offer to go for coffee together. He really wanted to get the chance to show off that he knew her order. She liked black coffee with too much sugar, oversweetened, but it was the way she liked it and she was the boss. He wanted to order and see her face light up and maybe catch the realization in her face that hey, maybe this guy was worth a little more of her time after all.

And he doesn't care how regretful and tired her eyes always look in the morning. He can make it go away, if she lets him. He can tell when she's upset and maybe he's shit at helping but dammit, he can at least tell and he can at least try. Maybe he gets angry when she brushes him off like he's just a good lay, maybe he raises his voice and she crumples and blinks rapidly to dispel tears and he leaves because he doesn't know what to do when she cries, but he doesn't _want_ to hurt her. Does Sam even feel remorse when he calls off another cuddle night? Ted would never turn down a cuddle night, but Charlotte never wants to do that with him, and she's the boss. He gets it. Doesn't mean he doesn't resent it. But she lets him in, just a little, and that's all he needs to feel that shred of hope.

Maybe if he presses enough soft kisses against the bare skin of her shoulders and neck he can change her mind. Maybe if he shit talks her husband enough he can convince her she deserves better. Maybe all it takes is one more night for her to realize what she wants.

  
  


Not _this_ time. But maybe _next_ time. For sure, next time.

He keeps telling himself that.

**Author's Note:**

> ted loves charlotte but he's just a man-baby who doesn't know how to deal with it and charlotte doesn't make it any easier for him: an essay by me


End file.
